Shore of Dreams: The First Noel
by Catiegirl
Summary: Here is the Christmas one-shot chapter I promised- a one shot just to wish you a very, merry Christmas from the Shore of Dreams AU.


**Merry Christmas everyone!**

 **Thanks to all of you, and much love,**

 **Cate.**

* * *

 **Shore of Dreams: The First Noel**

Gilbert Blythe stirred in his warm bed after midnight on Christmas Eve, wondering briefly why he had awoken. A long arm slipped out to find only cool sheets beside him, and he frowned. _That_ was why. Anne wasn't in bed. He pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking at the pale light coming from the window, and a slight smile crossed his face. She was sitting there now.

He could see her face in the moonlight, turned toward the window deep in thought. She lay back against the cushions she had made for the window seat, her silhouette sharp on the clear night. With softening eyes he studied her- the long, single braid running over one shoulder, touching the gentle curves of her breast, that she had pointed out in glee was much fuller than it had ever been. Gilbert chuckled- she hadn't needed to tell him. She was in one of the nightgowns she had chosen for their honeymoon- an almost sheer white gown, the soft cotton flowing easily down her curves- one that certainly had no place on a cool winter's night. His heart melted, watching one slim hand sit beneath the wonder of her growing belly, the other gently rubbing it from above.

Gilbert slid over to her side of the bed to get closer to her, and she turned her head at the movement. A smile broke over her face, then. "What are you doing awake at this hour, dearest?" she asked softly.

Gilbert climbed out of bed in his winter pyjamas, shivering in the cool of the room. "Finding out what my _wife_ is doing out of bed at this hour." He moved to sit beside her on the wide seat. The billowing summer nightgown would have done little to keep her warm, however, Anne had been at her most stubborn when she insisted on wearing it to bed that night. "Sweetheart, you must be _freezing_."

Anne sighed, exasperated. "I'm not, honestly, Gil. I needed some cool air on me. This little fellow must be as hotheaded as you and I ever were- I feel more like a furnace every day."

Gilbert chuckled, touching her hands and the feet up on the window seat, finding both warm and comfortable. "Well, it's just as well this isn't a summer baby then."

"I _have_ considered that he-"

"Or _she_ -"

"- _Might_ just be a phoenix. Bursting into flames every now and then, just for their own amusement," Anne said drolly.

Gilbert's grinned. "If they are, they're just a tiny one- only the size of your hand, sweetheart. As for the heat, you know it's just the pregnancy."

Anne sighed, her face relaxing. "I know. And it only lasts for a few hours, usually."

Gilbert smoothed his hand over the sheer fabric with a smile, the warmth of her curves on the cold night a double pleasure. "It's nice to see this nightgown again- I thought I would need to wait for the summer for this."

She smiled knowingly. "We'll have a one-month-old baby when summer comes, beloved. How does _that_ make you feel?"

He moved to kiss her then, hazel eyes beaming at her. "Like a king, Anne-girl. Now, what are you doing up so late?"

Anne's hand moved to where their baby lay sleeping, a little smile on her face. "I was just thinking, Gil. Treasuring up things and storing them in my heart."

He smiled. "Like Mary."

"Perhaps," she said softly. "Do you ever do that?"

Gilbert chuckled. "I'm no mother- but yes. Memorizing the good moments, thinking through hard ones to find the lesson in them- finding patterns that I might have overlooked."

She smiled at her careful, methodical husband, her hand coming up to caress the splendid chin that had caught her attention while they were still at school. "I think about how I will remember this Christmas- our very first one together, Gil."

Gilbert smiled. He placed his hands on her waist, taking delight in the extra fullness of her body, and the thin fabric that showed every contour perfectly. "And next Christmas we will have this little one a part of the celebration, sitting up and beginning to crawl- eating decorations and getting underfoot-"

"And I do expect your child to be precocious, Gil," Anne said brightly. "Your mother insisted that you did everything long before Charlie Sloane did, despite your being four months younger."

Gilbert grinned, bending to kiss her cheeks firmly. "Come on, I never competed with Charlie- I was just setting a good example."

"Ah. Like when you set your mother's hedge on fire."

"Exactly." He got up then, bending to scoop her up in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. "You need sleep, love- we have a big day ahead."

He tucked her under the covers, pausing to press a kiss to her stomach before climbing in beside her. He could only chuckle when she threw the heavy covers onto his side with a sigh, resolving to enjoy the extra warmth while he could. It was already a godsend on cold nights when he was called out from the house- returning in the hours of darkness to change shiveringly into his warmest pajamas- and Anne would awaken as she always did when he came home, draping herself over his icy form with a sigh of relief that her husband immediately echoed.

He smiled now as she murmured a sleepy goodnight, kissing her forehead and allowing his body to relax into the mattress. It was already going to be the best Christmas of his life.

* * *

John and Sonia Blythe arrived on the less than punctual train in the early afternoon on Christmas Eve, hugging Anne and Gilbert tightly, and exclaiming over the pink cheeks and evident contentment of the young pair. They were hustled toward the waiting wagon and a horse who was just as eager to be getting out of the cold- the snow had come earlier that week, and the white stretched across gleaming fields, the cold air stinging cheeks as they drove through the quiet town. Susan's welcome to Gilbert's parents was effusive, and soon she had hung Anne's walking stick on the hook near the door and ushered their guests into the living room.

The moment they had shed their coats, Sonia burst into tears, her hands on Anne's small, rounded belly, now four months along and just visible under the looser gown she now wore. Anne's grey eyes twinkled at Gilbert over her shoulder, as her mother in law pulled her in for yet another ecstatic hug.

"Oh goodness, when we got your letter, Anne, I cried for a day; my boy, my little boy is going to be a father-" she sobbed. "And of course I wanted to come and see you right away, however, we thought that you needed some time on your own, you're just newlyweds, really, and need your privacy- well, John and I didn't want _any_ visitors to stay for the first year, not even my parents, because we were always-"

"Ma!" an alarmed Gilbert barked, trying to ignore the smirk on his father's face. "Ma, it's completely fine. You're both welcome whenever you come, you know that. We know you can't always leave the farm."

Sonia wiped her eyes with a faint chuckle. "I'm sorry, dear, it's all just so much to process- you must admit that it's been a very eventful year for our family. You came home, my darling- the two of you finally sorted out your differences, and then there was your wedding and a new house, and now a blessed baby is on the way; your father has left his beloved cows three times this year-"

Gilbert chuckled. "You can't say that was his crowning achievement, mother."

Susan was in her element as she brought in the tea and the cake she had made for the afternoon and bustled back out to the kitchen to continue with dinner preparations, after pushing Sonia and Anne back into their seats to visit. Anne sat watching Sonia and John converse with their son for a time, dreamily studying them. She smiled at the way Gilbert teased his mother, the way she held her tall son's hand, smacking it lightly when he said something particularly cheeky.

Her thoughts wandered to Walter and Bertha Shirley then- she had never spent a Christmas with them. She looked down at her growing belly with a loving smile. She had been there then, though- they had known that she would be born in only three short months, and in the meantime, they had loved her with everything they had.

What would their Christmas have been like? Would her father have read aloud to them in the evenings? Would her mother have served up a roast dinner with a proud look on her face? Anne's hid a secret smile. Perhaps her mother had been as accident prone in the kitchen as Anne had been, once. Nineteen was so young to be married- perhaps Walter had heroically swallowed lumps and over-cooked meat, praising his young wife anyway and bending to kiss Bertha with a smile. As Anne sat dreaming, there was a gladness in her heart- of all of the gifts she had been given, the knowledge of how truly her parents had loved herself and each other had been one of the sweetest.

Her thoughts now turned to Matthew and Marilla. Anne looked up to the mantelpiece with a smile, at the picture of herself with them, taken just before Christmas the year she was at Queens. Matthew had come to collect her from the station that week, proud of the results his girl was attaining, and listening in delight to her merry chatter as the sleigh moved over icy roads. Marilla hadn't come to meet her, preferring to be met in the shadowy kitchen where her tears had been less visible- and even at fifteen, Anne had known that Marilla didn't want her emotions to be remarked on.

She gave a slight chuckle, remembering the train ride home- she had been utterly mortified to discover that she and Gilbert were reading the same book, Twain's _The Prince and the Pauper._ She had stuck her chin in the air, not willing to give in and swap hers for another in her bag, only to find him holding the book up higher, the cover in plain view, and hazel eyes that twinkled behind it. They had read steadily the whole way, ostensibly only paying attention to their books- only later had Anne admitted that she kept seeing him chuckle, and wondered what part of the story was making him laugh. Matthew and John Blythe had been speaking on the platform when they pulled in- she and Gilbert had approached their respective guardians in an uncomfortable silence. She remembered the way Gilbert had tipped his hat to her as he went- his eyes challenging her to ignore him in front of Matthew. Indeed, it was only for Matthew's sake that she had given a stiff nod in response.

She looked across at her husband now, the same teasing expression on his lean face. Perhaps Matthew and Marilla would have come to Ingleside for their first Christmas with them- although Matthew had never travelled further from Avonlea than Charlottetown before. How happy they would have been- and they would have loved the babe to come as a most beloved grandchild. A tear fell down one cheek then, as she hid a small chuckle. How Matthew would have spoiled the baby- and Marilla would have outwardly scoffed, and done no less.

Susan came to the door to ask Anne for her opinion on something, and as Anne rose the three others rose also, making sure she was steady on her feet. Anne waved them all away with a smile, moving into the kitchen with a bright look.

"What is it, Susan?"

"Nothing that can't soon be fixed. Are you well?"

Anne blinked at her housekeeper in some surprise. "I'm fine, Susan."

Susan mixed her dough with a practised hand, looking at Anne shrewdly. "I just thought you seemed a little emotional in there, pet."

Anne's look cleared. "Oh, it's nothing, Susan. I suppose I'm a little more emotional of late- Gilbert says it is only to be expected. I was just thinking about Christmases past."

"Have you and the doctor spent Christmases together before?"

Anne chuckled, moving to stir the pot of hearty stew Susan had bubbling on the stove. "Not really, Susan. Of course, we had years where we weren't in contact. We went to Christmas parties together once upon a time- and then Gilbert visited after dinner on Christmas day in our first year of college, only to be force-fed mince pies by Mrs Lynde. And after that, we were back not speaking to each other."

Susan sighed. "Somehow I can't imagine the two of you not talking to each other, Anne dearie."

Anne couldn't help but smile. "That was always the way with Gilbert and I, Susan; we were either hot or cold. Luke-warm was never our style. And we have certainly made up for lost time now."

* * *

An hour before dinner that night, Gilbert excused himself, saying he had a quick errand to run. Anne, by now well used to Gilbert leaving at all odd hours of the day or night merely waved him off, using the chance to run down to the laundry where Gilbert's Christmas present was housed, kept warm and safe in a basket near the old stove. With a smile she scratched the ear of the puppy, hoping against hope that the little fellow would be able to keep quiet until the following day. When she returned to the kitchen, Gilbert had returned and was ushering someone inside, a plump little woman with twinkling eyes. Anne stood back for a moment smiling, knowing how hard Gilbert had tried to have her here for Christmas day. Sonia and John moved to greet his Aunt Katherine with tears in their eyes, exclaiming incoherently over David Blythe's widow, who then turned to Anne, her blue eyes sparkling. Gilbert placed her bags inside the door with a smile, but had no chance to introduce his Aunt, as she walked straight to his wife, her arms out in welcome.

"And of course this is our Anne! Dear, it's so wonderful to meet you," she said, enfolding her into her arms warmly. "You are just as Gilbert described you, dear. And, I can assure you that I was hearing about you when you were still in school. Now, you must call me Aunt Katherine right away; and if you put a 'Great' in front of that I will refuse to answer. Isn't that right, Gilbert?"

Gilbert came to stand beside Anne, with a twinkling look. "Yes. And yes, I tested that theory."

She eyed Anne critically and placed a gentle hand on Anne's belly. "Four months along, yes?" Anne couldn't help blushing slightly as she nodded, and Katherine Blythe laughed. "I was married to a doctor for forty-seven years- I could spot it faster than he could, at times."

Anne chuckled. "I have a lot to learn from you, Aunt Katherine. I have been assured that no one can ever replace you in the hearts of the Glen."

To Anne's surprise, the older woman gave an unladylike snort. "They say that _now_ , Anne dear. I can assure you that they weren't when I lived here. Oh- and I was told that the previous doctor's wife was a saint too."

Gilbert was pleased to not be called out until after the dinner with the family had concluded. Four of the inhabitants of the house, who were finely tuned to the sound of the telephone jumped as Sonia was clearing the plates after dessert, pausing breathlessly to see what kind of crisis it was. Gilbert had time to grab his bag and coat from the hallway table, pausing to kiss his wife before running out of the door, calling behind him that he should be home in time to unwrap his Christmas presents. Anne closed the door behind him with a chuckle, turning to see yet another discussion between Susan and Sonia taking place- both equally insistent that the other one had done more of the work, and deserved to rest.

Anne had encouraged Susan to take up Sonia's offer of help as much as possible- knowing that her mother-in-law was still adjusting to a world in which the needs of Gilbert's household were taken care of by his wife first and foremost, and his housekeeper. As it happened, all three women turned on Anne soon after the meal when Anne admitted to feeling somewhat tired, and Anne was packed away into her downy, four poster bed, without anyone allowing her to assist in the kitchen. With promises of a restorative cup of tea if she woke up through the night, Anne settled back on her pillows with letters from Stella and Diana to peruse, and a hastily scribbled postcard from Katherine- who had finally eloped with her young man, and the two globetrotters were currently on their honeymoon on the Mediterranean.

* * *

It was just after midnight that night when a tired Gilbert drove Hippocrates through the barn doors, relieved that the only baby due on Christmas day had arrived early, and the rest of his patients were stable. He unsaddled the horse with a sigh, glad to get into the warmth of the barn, and knowing that there was better inside the house. Susan would have a small lunch ready, and the rest of the house would be slumbering peacefully.

Inside the door, he dropped his coat and mittens on the sofa, grinning to himself at the charade he and Anne would go through come morning- she would scold him for not hanging everything up properly, he would pretend to protest, and all while both were blissfully happy to do be doing something so normal, as arguing over the keeping of their domestic kingdom. He knew that she didn't really mind.

Gilbert stood at the bench in the dim room cutting up some pie when he heard an odd scuffling noise, a faint whimper- and instantly alert, he set down the food to investigate. The family were asleep upstairs, and no sound was coming from their bedroom. He followed the sounds to hear the whimpers growing louder as he moved to the back of the house. Assuming that an animal had somehow come inside, he pushed the laundry door aside carefully only to become speechless at the sight before him. A smile lit his tired face when he saw a puppy in a basket too high for him to escape, the little fellow's nose in the air, and frantic whimpering that said that he knew that he was no longer alone. In a trice, Gilbert had the dog in his arms, and he chuckled as the puppy proceeded to lick his face, looking down at it in delight. It was a perfect Irish setter, just like the dog that had been his before he went away to Alberta. Gilbert shook his head with a grin, knowing how excited Anne had been about his Christmas present- although she had given him no hints that this would be it. Despite the small stove trying to burn, the room was cold, and Gilbert bent down to pick up the basket, taking the puppy out to the kitchen with him.

"See now, this isn't so bad, is it?" Gilbert murmured, grinning as he set the puppy down beside the bench, in his basket once again, utterly captivated by Anne's surprise. He sat down on the floor in front of the warm stove, the pie and a glass of milk beside him. With one hand he pulled the little fellow onto his lap, scratching his silky red ears. He suddenly chuckled, looking at the dog in the firelight. "You're lucky she picked you, you know. She's always been against red hair on principle- but my guess is that she picked you for _me_." He held the dog up, gazing at his little face. "So what are we going to name you?" Gilbert said thoughtfully. "I'm tempted to go with Carrots- but I don't fancy sleeping on the sofa for a month. We'll leave the name, I think- Anne was always better at that." He broke off a small piece of the pie and grinned as he felt the rough tongue against his hand. "Steady on, that's mine- but I'll find something for you. Susan won't mind.

"You'll like it here, I think. Susan spoils everyone- and we'll have a playmate for you soon enough." He eyed the roly-poly dog, a mock frown on his face as big, brown eyes watched him. "Now, we're going to love having you- but you know you have a job to do, too, right? You'll have to protect them all. You can bark and be ferocious if you need to- wait till you've grown a bit, first. Don't bite anyone, though- I'd have to stitch them up afterwards if you did." Gilbert grinned as the puppy buried himself in the crook of his arm. He continued quietly. "And most importantly- you need to keep Anne safe- I'll teach you to come and get me or Susan if she needs us. You'll know what to do when it's time. We like to be outside, a lot- and we'll be out in the garden in the spring. You'd better not dig up her roses, either."

He was so intent on the puppy that he didn't hear the soft footfalls behind him. The dog's minuscule tail began to wag at the visitor though, and Gilbert finally looked up to see Anne's chagrined face.

"Gil, you weren't supposed to see your Christmas present for a few more hours!" she said softly, and Gilbert placed the dog in his basket again, on his feet to wrap his arms around his apologetic wife. "Merry Christmas, Gil."

He pulled her into a tight hug. "I can't believe you did this, Anne- he's the best gift you could have given me. I just got home- he was making some noise in the laundry, so I went to investigate. I was just having something to eat with him."

Anne pulled away, her eyes brightening. "How wonderful! That's just what I was coming out to do."

Gilbert grinned. "Tell you what, Anne girl, go get yourself settled in the living room- I'll scrounge us up a tray, and get something for him too."

In the living room, Anne bent down to place a log on the fire, smiling when Gilbert brought the round basket into the room. Susan had picked the dog up only that day- and they had had an interesting time trying to keep it a secret from Gilbert. John had suggested the laundry to put him for the night, and Anne had been secretly relieved when her husband had been called out to deliver Mrs Potter's baby- the little dog had been most indignant at being shut away from everyone else. There had been a slight moment of exhaustion when Anne wondered what had possessed her to give such a gift, after getting up almost hourly to check on him- and she rolled her eyes. At least the baby would be sleeping in a basket beside them, for the first few months.

Gilbert was soon in the room again, and together they sat with a tray before them, and the basket sitting in front of the sofa. He had eagerly lapped up the milk Gilbert had placed in a saucer, and a few chunks of beef from the stew that night had finished his meal- he now lay close to sleep with a full belly, and Gilbert reached down to stroke his lolling head as Anne and Gilbert finished their midnight snack.

"What made you think of him, Anne-girl?" he asked softly.

She smiled. "You needed a dog, Gil. You used to talk about your dog a long time ago- and how much it hurt you to not come home to him."

Gilbert nodded, his look distant. "It was. I missed him a lot. It's funny- this was all a part of it, once. It's everything I ever wanted. A cat and a dog, the footsteps of friends, and _you_."

Seeing the wistful look on his face, Anne rose to seat herself in his lap. "It _is_ a part of it now, dearest."

He broke himself from his mood, turning to smile at her. "I'm sorry. Every now and then I remember what it was like to hope, and then-"

Anne's hands brought his face close to her own, and she kissed him tenderly and sweetly. "I know. Sometimes it seems real again- but it isn't. The reality is that your wife is an overly-emotional heat-source, who is beginning to lose her waistline- and that my _husband_ is out at all hours tending to the sick and wounded, coming home only to fall in an exhausted heap. Reality is that our beautiful baby will be here in five months, and Susan will be battling with your mother over holding rights." She smiled at him, stroking his cheeks. "And a blissful reality is that I share my bed with you each and every night- and you love me with so much strength and tenderness that sometimes I lose the ability to form coherent sentences."

His smile was loving in the dim room, and he pulled her close to him. "It's a beautiful reality, Anne-girl- it's the only one I want. The reality is _also_ that I want to love my wife into the dawn right now- but I need sleep, sweetheart."

Anne chuckled, resting her head against his cheek. "As little as I like to admit it, so do I. And we have four others in the house who most likely wake before morning if your father is any indication- not to mention the hourly polite argument over the teapot that your mother and Susan seem to be having right now."

Gilbert chuckled, and after checking that the puppy was sound asleep in his basket, he pulled Anne into his arms, smiling at the way she held him tightly. "Personally, my money is on my mother. She used to get up at four on Christmas morning to beat me to the presents." At Anne's chuckle, he grinned. "So what are we calling my Christmas present, then?"

"Nebuchadnezzar?" Anne said innocently and laughed. "No, he's your dog, beloved. You need a name that you are proud to shout across the countryside. He will follow you around everywhere, run to meet you at all hours of the day and night, and possibly chew on your boots as well- and then, of course, he will protect us," she said with her hand on her tummy, her eyes twinkling.

Gilbert looked down at her in surprise. "You heard me say that to him?"

Anne smiled, feeling his heartbeat as she rested against his chest. "Yes- but I didn't need to. I know you, Gil."

He couldn't keep the grin from his face as he led his wife to their room, and watched as she climbed into their bed, a sigh of relief as she lay down snuggled under the covers. In a short time, he was changed as well, and he pulled Anne close to his side with a tired sigh.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

* * *

Christmas morning dawned with a light falling of snow, and the household gathered in the living room to open their presents, with Gilbert's puppy ambling around the room, and having to be rescued from underneath the tree that Gilbert and John had placed there the night before. Anne had insisted on decorating the room herself, and branches of spicy fir lay on the mantelpiece surrounding the photographs of loved ones absent, scattered with the snowdrops that grew in the field beyond Ingleside. Susan's poinsettia was in pride of place on the table, and as the family sat in the candlelight on the cold Christmas morning, John handed Gilbert the family Bible, and the story of the Christ-child was read as Blythes had done long before them. Anne had never heard Gilbert speak of this tradition before, and watched him read now, her eyes glowing with pride. He chose the gospel of Luke, of course, she noted with a chuckle- Luke, who had been a physician. As she listened to his voice, watching Gilbert's mother wipe away a little tear, she thought she understood. A torch had been passed. They were continuing the tradition as his family had done- a new family, a new home, tied lovingly to their past as well.

Later that morning, it was Gilbert who was meditative, leading his family in through the doors of the Glen St Mary church- his mother and father standing proudly beside him, Annd and Aunt Katherine on the other side of him. He watched his wife with a smile, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the dreamy way she looked around the building. He could never get enough of the way Anne immersed herself in the experiences of life- the very thing that her grey eyes had told him when he first saw her. She stood beside him now her stick in the other hand, studying the stained glass window that depicted the wise men surrounding the manger. He wondered where she was right now- was she in the little stable with the blessed couple, or with the shepherds on the hillside? Her hand slipped into his then, and he looked down into her bright eyes, unable to keep the smile from his face. Wherever she roamed in her imagination, he knew that she was here anchored with _him_.

When the parishioners were seated, Gilbert reflected that it was just as well they all knew the story ahead of time. Reverend Toomey was speaking through a terrible head cold, and his parishioners were hearing perhaps one word in three of the sermon that he had worked so hard on. Gilbert had been to check him only the day before and had found their minister over the worst of it, left with a raspy throat and a grumpy mood. He watched him offer the benediction through the scarf his wife had insisted on, and the choir rose for the closing hymn. Anne's hand was in the crook of his arm, and for just a brief moment her cheek rested against his shoulder. His hand moved to cover hers, and they shared a glance. She'd been tired that morning, he knew- he'd needed to wake her, her red curls coming down from her plait adorably. Gilbert had smiled at the groan she had given at being pulled back to consciousness, and the way she had buried her face in his lap as he sat on the side of the bed. He'd coaxed her up with promises of tea and Susan's butter tarts, and the presents that his father had helped him bring down from the attic that morning.

After the service, the parishioners were quick to leave the sanctuary, anxious to make it home in time for the Christmas dinners that had cost much careful preparation. Gilbert handed his wife into the buggy, overhearing a whisper or two from several women who were _not_ in his confidence- "Goodness, is Miss Shirley in the family way? No wonder the Doctor looks so pleased with himself-"

Sonia came up behind Gilbert with her husband, looking over at the chattering women indignantly. "Are you not going to correct them, Gilbert?"

He gave an undignified snort. "Certainly not. Anne is only Miss Shirley to those who don't bother to know us. We know that she's part of our family- and as to the baby, I won't exchange their rumours for the truth- if they won't ask us directly, they haven't earned the right to hear it from us in person."

His mother scowled. "Well if they say it near _me_ they will certainly be taken down a peg or two. ' _Miss Shirley_ ' indeed…"

Around the Christmas table at noon, Anne sat at Gilbert's right hand as he carved the geese, smiling as she listened to the merry chatter around the table. John was deep in discussion with Marshall Elliot, while his wife sat with Aunt Katherine updating her on all the goings on in the Glen over the past two years. Susan had insisted that Anne not help, adamant that she and Sonia had the meal well under control, and Anne found herself before the meal sitting in the rocking chair that had been her present from Gilbert that morning- a broad chair with comforting wings, just made for late night rocking with a little one over her shoulder. She had been sitting there when Sonia came to get her for dinner, pausing to ask if Anne was alright when a curious look came over her daughter-in-law's face. Since Anne only smiled and nodded, Sonia ushered her into the dining room decorated with greenery and low white candles, and the meal that Susan laid on the table with an entirely justifiable pride.

After a sumptuous dinner that had all guests replete, the women sat inside talking over tea in the living room, while John and Marshall looked on in amusement as Gilbert introduced the puppy to the garden and his first experience of snow. Gilbert watched him, delighted- it had been a Christmas like no other. In the company of his family, with Anne by his side and a beloved child to welcome in five short months, and much to his delight he hadn't been called out once. This streak was broken just as Mr and Mrs Elliot made their farewells, when he was called to a small household on the edge of the Glen- where one of Anne's students sheepishly admitted to accepting a dare to race across ice covered fields. Gilbert's hazel eyes twinkled as he lectured and wrapped the sprained knee, and he was on his way in a short time with a loaf of gingerbread from the boy's grateful mother. His own father was at the barn to meet him to care for the horse when he arrived home, and sent him inside with a chuckle, claiming that there were at least four women anxious to care for him after his trek through winter afternoon. There was a slight feeling of unreality when Gilbert walked in through his front door then, compared to the memory of what he had come home to after Christmas last year. Ingleside was a haven of warmth; mother and aunt and housekeeper anxious to take his coat and to shoo him before the fire with a plate of food, a snoozing puppy in his basket by the tree, and the discovery that his beloved wife had at last been persuaded to take a nap by the previous Mrs Dr Blythe. To this, he could only grin and thank his aunt- even he had limited success in that endeavour.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Anne came from her bedroom, smiling at the sound of murmurs in the kitchen, and seeing that Gilbert's office door was open. She drew in a breath of relief, knowing that he was home now. Sonia was in the kitchen with Susan concocting the mulled wine that was a Blythe tradition, and John was at work in the barn- and so she moved quietly, hoping that no one would come to investigate what she was doing up so soon. She had something to discuss with her husband.

When she knocked on his door, Gilbert looked up, his hand evidently having just left his tousled brown hair. "Did you sleep well, sweetheart? You must have needed it- you were out cold when I came home."

To his surprise, Anne only stood in the doorway with an odd look on her face. "Gil, can you come here for a moment?"

He rose in alarm, moving to her side. "What is it? Is everything alright?"

Her grey eyes looked at him in wonder, and she moved his hand to the front of her dress, pressing it into her belly. "Gil-" she whispered, when he jumped, his eyes flying to his wife's.

"Was _that_ -"

"I don't know-" she whispered, and suddenly resolute, Gilbert took her hand in his, both feeling like naughty children as they checked that the coast was clear before they moved to their bedroom quickly. Gilbert locked the doors behind him and picked up his protesting wife, before sitting her down carefully on the edge of the bed. He gave Anne a rakish smile as he raised the hem of her dress, making her chuckle as he moved her petticoats aside to touch her stomach. Thankful that her corset had been too uncomfortable to wear since the morning sickness had begun, Gilbert now smoothed his hands over her warm skin, waiting patiently. Anne's breath caught as she felt the small nudges from within that had been growing more noticeable over the last day or so. The movement was so small that Gilbert almost missed it, until he stilled, his hands pressing on her firmly. He stopped in shock, and his eyes found hers, as a flutter was felt against his palms.

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his face breaking into the biggest smile Anne had ever seen on him. "That's our baby." Over and over he had reassured her that four months was most likely when she would feel the infant move and that she must be patient. Now, he looked into the face that shone like sunlight and immediately crushed his laughing wife into his arms.

"I've probably felt it for a day or two," she whispered, her arms around his neck tightly. "I just didn't know what I was looking for; but it's our baby, Gil!"

Gilbert could do nothing but close his eyes and hold his wife. "And in five months time, we get to _meet_ this little Blythe."

Anne beamed at him. "And then we will know just who this person is- a Fitzwilliam or a Cordelia-"

Gilbert groaned. "Anne, I told you, we are not having a son named Fitzwilliam Blythe. I'm putting my foot down."

She laughed, her grey eyes wicked. "Oh, but darling, I named so many wonderful characters once, surely you would like some of them- Perceval, perhaps; or Lawrence, or _Maurice_ -"

Gilbert's raised eyebrow told Anne that she was playing with fire, and he soon had his giggling wife pinned to the bed, tracing ticklish kisses down her throat. Between kisses he mumbled against her skin, his hands moving to the buttons on her dress- "And there will be no Evangeline, no Odelina- and absolutely _no_ -" here he paused from the soft curves of her breasts to grin at her wickedly- " _Averil_."

At this Anne struggled upright with a cry of indignation. "Gil, you promised-"

He laughed, grabbing her swiftly and pulling her on top of him in a single move. Anne steadied herself, her grey eyes flashing, still managing to look regal despite the hair that was falling down from her careful pins. "You _swore_ you wouldn't tease me about Averil again. Not after you made me cry about it," she said crossly.

Gilbert grinned. "Anne-girl, I gave you that promise ten years ago- but I figure that since then I gave you _another_ promise- and that nullifies that one."

Anne's eyes were twinkling suspiciously as he sat up, his long arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her body closer to him. "Is this Andrew's profession I hear speaking, and not your own, Doctor?"

"No, everybody knows that one." His warm hands ran up her back to her hair as he kissed her neck, and Anne chuckled at the sound of her hairpins being casually tossed to the wooden floor. "One supersedes the other. I promised to have you-" he whispered, moving his hands to pull her tighter to him- "and to _hold_ you, for richer or poorer-"

Anne closed her eyes at his touch, melting into his arms with an impatient sigh that made him laugh, her hands moving to quickly remove his tie. "We're already married, dearest, do make your point quickly-"

"- _However_ ; I _never_ promised that I wouldn't tease you, sweetheart. I never will. And you wouldn't want me to," he said frankly, giving her the twisted smile of mischief that had caught her attention in their old schoolroom so very long ago.

Anne's sparkling eyes looked into his own, and Gilbert chuckled as his tie went to join the hairpins. "I thought we came in here to check on the baby, dearest," she commented breathlessly, her deft fingers moving to unbutton his shirt.

"We did. The baby is fine," he said with a grin, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Besides, it's been almost forty-eight hours since we last did this. I'm sure that's not good for a woman in your delicate condition- or your doctor, for that matter-"

Anne's laughter sounded as her husband grabbed her, his lips seeking her bare skin, their clothing soon an untidy pile around their bed as they burrowed joyously under downy winter covers, the light snow falling gently outside. For their family, for beloved friends and their first Christmas together, they were both thankful- however, the most precious gifts they had ever received were right there with them in their bedroom.


End file.
